A Darcy & Elizabeth Pride and Prejudice variation
by MareeApps
Summary: This Pride and Prejudice variation looks at what might have transpired between Darcy and Elizabeth, had Darcy not come to Netherfield in the first instance, and thus did not prevent the marriage of Bingley to Jane. It explores the ideals of romance and the realities of marriage in Regency society. It is also very much in need of a better blurb, and possibly a title...
1. 1

**Author Note:** Hi! I'm very excited to share with you my first JAFF work in progress. While I have published a number of original contemporary works, I am very new to writing Regency works. I am conscious of my word choices, and of researching details as I write, however I can absolutely guarantee that you will find mistakes. Particularly in this first unedited draft.  
I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it!  
xx Maree

 **1.**

Elizabeth Bennet pinned the final flower into her older sister's hair and stood back to assess her work. "There. I can say with no uncertainty, Jane, that you will be the most radiant bride Meryton has ever had the good fortune to set eyes upon. Mr Bingley truly is the luckiest of men."

Jane turned from the looking glass and held her hand out to her sister. "Thank you, Lizzie." She ran a finger over the fine needlework adorning the dress in which she would marry her beloved. "I find myself unable to adequately express how greatly I appreciate the many hours you spent creating the perfect trimming for my dress."

"You deserve only the finest this world has to offer, Jane. And now that you have found your Mr Bingley, you shall have it." Lizzie smiled and patted Jane's hand as it held her own.

The smile would fool most others, but Jane noted the melancholy in her sister's eyes. "Oh, Lizzie! You must think me so terribly insensitive, going on as I am about my own joy when you have been let down so badly yourself. Did you love Mr Wickham so very much?"

Lizzie dropped her sister's hand and turned away. Of course Jane would conclude her sorrow was the result of the recent announcement of George Wickham's engagement to Mary King. After meeting the charming and handsome officer at an assembly in Meryton, the very same assembly in which Jane made her acquaintance with Mr Bingley, Wickham had become a regular guest at Longbourn. Lizzie much enjoyed their conversations and could not deny she had entertained thoughts of a future with the officer.

It had come as great surprise to many when, upon learning of her recent inheritance, Wickham had turned his attentions to the freckled and otherwise inconsequential Miss Mary King. But Lizzie knew well that handsome young men must have something to live on, as well as the plain. While she held strong to her dreams of a marriage based on true affection, she could not deny his decision to pursue a more prudent match.

She let out a long sigh and turned back to face her sister. "It is true, Mr Wickham is, beyond all comparison, the most agreeable man I ever saw, but I confess, I do not believe I was ever in love with him. Had I really experienced that pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial towards him; they are even impartial towards Miss King."

She picked up one of the satin slippers her sister would wear for her wedding, and traced her finger over the insole, picturing her sister's name inscribed there alongside her husbands. Both she and Jane each held in their most treasured possessions, a slipper worn by their mother at her marriage to their father. Lizzie had oft held that slipper, tracing the inscription of her parents' names, and imagining her name next to that of her own true love. "Do you recall the stories Papa would tell us when we were children, of his courtship with our mother?"

Jane smiled, remembering the stories herself. "I do believe our mother was as spirited as you, Lizzie. The way Papa tells it, she made him work most diligently to prove his worth as a man and a husband before she would accept his offer."

"Yes." Lizzie replaced the slipper carefully and took a seat on the edge of the bed in which her sister had spent her final night as a single woman. "When you believe no one to be watching and steal glances at your Mr Bingley, you get the same look on your face as Papa got when he'd tell us stories of her."

Jane stood and walked over to her sister, taking hold of both Lizzie's hands before seating herself on the bed beside her. "I have counted my blessings every moment since I had the fortune of dancing the first set at that assembly with Charles. Oh Lizzie, I can't wait for you to fall in love and experience what I feel in my own heart."

Lizzie laughed, and Jane was pleased to hear the melodic joy in the expression. "I don't think I could ever be so good as to experience what you feel in your heart, dear Jane. You are the most agreeable person I have ever known. Why even Mama can not find fault in your manner."

As if conjured by the mere mention of her name, Mr Bennet's second wife, whom he married less than a twelvemonth after the tragic passing of his first, called up the stairs, "Come girls, the carriage awaits. We must not be late or poor Mr Bingley might have reason to change his mind. And after all the trouble I have gone to in arranging new dresses, even for you, Elizabeth, despite it being not one month since received your last new dress. Oh do hurry yourselves, girls."

Lizzie clenched her lips together, lest she let slip a retort disclosing the providence of the dress she'd worn to the assembly. Mrs Hill, the housekeeper of Longbourn, had taken great risk in going against her new mistress' orders when she secretly preserved a collection of the first Mrs Bennet's personal belongings for her daughters.

It had taken Lizzie many nights of stitching new trimmings to the dress to give it the appearance of this season's fashions, but all had been worth it when her father had whispered how greatly she resembled her mother; the pleasure exceeded only by the ire of the second Mrs Bennet at her husband's fond recollection of his first wife.

Jane reached her arms around her sister and hugged her tightly. "I love you, Lizzie. Promise you won't let Mama rile you when I'm gone."

Elizabeth held her hand against her chest in mock objection to the charge. "Me, riled? Why Jane, whatever could lead you to make such a suggestion. As always I will demonstrate utmost pleasantness towards our dearest Mama and our delightful sisters."

Jane slipped her feet into the slippers that would become treasured keepsakes of the day's events. Then she turned to look at her sister over her shoulder. "Well, you never know, Lizzie, Mr Bingley expects a number of guests to travel for the celebration today. Perhaps you'll meet your own true love."

Lizzie again laughed as she followed her sister out of their shared room for the final time.

Mrs Fanny Bennet fussed over her husband's eldest daughter, clucking her tongue as she dusted an imaginary loose thread from Lizzie's needlework. She spared nary a glance in Lizzie's direction as she ushered Jane out to the awaiting carriage.

"Come girls, your sisters are already away, walking the mile to Meryton with the Lucases. Oh, I do hope they arrive before Mrs Long and her nieces. Why I understand, Jane, your Mr Bingley has invited no less than twenty eligible bachelors to attend the wedding."

"Mama—" Lizzie intended to temper their mother's expectations, but she was promptly ignored as Mrs Bennet turned away and walked ahead of the girls out of the house.

Instead of following their mother out, Lizzie was startled when Jane turned suddenly and grabbed hold of her sister's wrists. Taking in the sudden pallor of Jane's features, which only moments before held such radiance, Lizzie let out a startled gasp.

The reaction brought forth Mrs Hill, who had been waiting just outside the door to farewell the bride. She approached the girls but Lizzie held her hand up to stall the housekeeper's approach.

"Jane?"

"Oh Lizzie, I love Mama, and I know she only wants for her daughters to make good matches, but it is not at all likely any of Mr Bingley's guests will arrive in time to attend the service. I worry in her disappointment, Mama is going to create a scene—"

"Fear not, Janie. Nothing will interfere with your marriage to Mr Bingley. I simply will not allow it."

Hill stepped forward and wrapped her arms around both girls. "There you see, Miss Bennet. If there is anyone who can honour such a statement it is Miss Elizabeth. Not to mention, having seen the way that man looks at you, I do not believe there is a force in the world that could prevent your Mr Bingley from making you his wife."

She dropped her arm from around Lizzie and reached into her apron pocket to retrieve a handkerchief which she used to pat dry a tear that ran down her cheek. "Oh girls, if your mother were alive today she would be so proud of the ladies you have become. Both of you." She hugged them again and then gestured to the door. "Now be on your way, quickly girls, or the mistress will have all our hides!"

Jane gave the woman who had been the closest thing both girls had to a kind and loving mother figure a final hug. "Thank you Hill."

Hill stepped back and curtsied as Lizzie and Jane left the house.

"Hurry girls," Mrs Bennet called from inside the carriage, "we must leave at once if we are to arrive on time. Oh, how you girls test my poor nerves."

Mr Bennet waited alongside the carriage to assist each of his daughters up with a hand on their elbow. As they were settled in their seats, Mrs Bennet prattled on about the fineries that had been arranged for the celebration, and how envious Lady Lucas and Mrs Long would be.

Lizzie looked to her father who in turn winked at her. The familiar gesture calmed her own nerves. She covered Jane's gloved hand with her own and gave a squeeze. In only a short carriage ride, she would say goodbye to the one person in the house who truly understood her.

 **Thanks for reading the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! Our next chapter will see the arrival of Mr Darcy... I'll have that one up for you shortly.**  
 **Cheers, Maree**


	2. 2

**Author Note:** Wow! Thank you to everyone who left such encouraging reviews on my first instalment. I very much appreciate the warm welcome I've received to FF!

There were quite a few questions raised in the reviews. Sadly (for you) the answer to most of them won't be revealed until further in the story. So you'll just have to put your patient pants on and read along!

I do love reading speculations of what might happen, and where you think this story might be headed, so please keep sharing your thoughts in the reviews.

Scene 2 is a short one. I was going to wait until I had the full chapter written, but I'm not the quickest of writers, so thought you might all appreciate a shorter update now, rather than waiting a week for a longer one. Enjoy!

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 **2.**

Mrs Bennet's prattling was brought to an abrupt holt as the carriage swung towards the side of the road before coming to a complete stop. "Oh dear heavens, Mr Bennet! Go speak with the driver. This simply will not do. There is no time for stoppages. Go speak with him at once, please, Mr Bennet."

Lizzie watched as Mr Bennet spoke with the driver. She could not hear the words, but from the hand gestures she concluded a problem had arisen with the carriage and they would not be travelling further without repairs.

"Come Jane," she lifted her sister's hand, once again squeezing to demonstrate support, "it cannot be more than a quarter mile left on the journey. If we walk now, we most certainly can make it in time for the service to begin."

After climbing down from the carriage, Lizzie turned to assist her sister from the vehicle, only to see Jane's exit blocked by Mrs Bennet. "Elizabeth Bennet! You cannot be suggesting that Jane walk to her wedding. I will not have it. Imagine, the fiance of one of the wealthiest men in the district, walking to her wedding. Good heavens above, the gossip would be unbearable."

Lizzie looked to Jane who responded with a subtle shake of her head. Never one to confront Mama, Lizzie could see Jane was resigned to the situation.

Frustrated, she decided to check on Papa and the driver, who were now discussing the problem on the other side of the carriage. As she stepped away from the carriage to make her way around, Lizzie heard a shout.

How she had missed hearing the thundering hooves of the horse being raced along the road, she could not understand. She managed to step back to avoid being hit, but was unable to avoid the splash of muddy water flicked up as the horse passed.

The rider slowed the beast only long enough to call back over his shoulder, "My apologies! Can't stop, I'm quite late for an appointment. I will send help once I reach the town."

For possibly the first time in her recollection, Lizzie found herself without a response. She could do nothing more than watch as the man, who was as handsome as he was arrogant, sped away.

Moments later, Lizzie was still standing in the road staring after the mystery rider. Now, however, she had found her words and was uttering every curse she knew under her breath. She looked down at her soiled gown. There was no way to disguise the marks across the front of the skirt. She uttered more curses.

"I'm sorry, my dears. It would appear a bolt has worked loose. An easy repair but it will take some time while the part is retrieved. Fear not, though. It is but a short walk left to town. We shall still have you there in time, my dearest Jane." Mr Bennet rounded the carriage and pulled up as he saw his second daughter, exceedingly pale but for the red flush of her cheeks.

"Lizzie? What are you doing out of the carriage?" He followed her gaze as she looked over her shoulder down the road towards town, before looking back and noting the state of her dress. "Dear lord, child. Pray, tell me you were not by the road when that insolent upstart raced by just now!"

In two long strides he made it to his daughter's side and took it upon himself to assess her for physical harm. "Did he strike you? Are you harmed?"

Lizzie shook her head. "I am a little shaken, but otherwise perfectly fine." She looked down. "My dress, though…"

"Elizabeth Bennet! Look at the state of you." With each statement, Mrs Bennet's voice grew more shrill. "Ruined, I tell you. First the carriage, and now this. The whole wedding is ruined. Oh, my poor Jane. She will never find another as good as Mr Bingley—"

"Enough, Fanny! Can you not see our daughter has had a great shock? Why, she could have been killed by that reckless rider." He looked again in the direction the rider had sped, as though the act itself would provide answers to the rider's identity.

From inside the carriage, Lizzie heard her sister's gasp. She rested her hand on her father's arm. "Papa, I am well. The only casualty of this situation is my gown, and poor Jane if we do not start walking now to get her to the church."

"Walking?" Mrs Bennet leaned so far out of the carriage, Lizzie was sure she was but moments from falling. "What nonsense are you speaking, Elizabeth? I already made it perfectly well known that Jane would not be arriving at her wedding on foot."

Mr Bennet reached up, ready to assist his wife from the carriage. "My dear Mrs Bennet, many a fine lady has arrived to her wedding on foot, and have ended their day happily married, just as Jane will today. Now come. As you said yourself, we would hate for Mr Bingley to believe himself the victim of a jilt."

Lizzie smiled to herself as she walked arm in arm the short distance left of the journey to town. Despite Mama's constant complaining, Jane would soon be wed to her Mr Bingley. Not even a handsome stranger riding so recklessly down the road would stand in the way of Jane's happiness. Not if Lizzie could help it.

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 **A/N:** Oooh, I wonder who that reckless handsome stranger could have been? And what has him in such a rush that he can't stop and provide assistance to the stranded family? Hmmm...


	3. 3

**Author Note:** Well you all picked that like a dirty nose :P Yes, our mysterious rider was indeed Fitzwilliam Darcy. I hope you enjoy meeting him in this next scene.  
As always, please let me know if there are any anachronisms I should be aware of. Please excuse any typos or grammar slip ups. This is the rough draft, so there are bound to be some. Happy reading!

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Fitzwilliam Darcy had risen before dawn and ridden his horse hard to make the journey from Rosings to the small town of Meryton where his closest acquaintance, Charles Bingley, was to be married. Why his friend had chosen such an insignificant location for his nuptials escaped Darcy. In his letters, Bingley had painted the town as quaint and charming. Darcy suspected that opinion was coloured not only by Bingley's usual amicable nature, but also by his most severe admiration for Miss Bennet, of whom he'd also written glowing testimonials.

Regardless, Darcy he was grateful for the reprieve from his interfering aunt and petulant little sister. Considerable time and resources had been necessary to mitigate the damage to young Georgiana's reputation, and by consequence the Darcy name, following her foolishness at Ramsgate this past summer. Darcy would have thought his sister grateful for his assistance, but at the tender age of fifteen, she failed to recognise the seriousness of the situation she'd faced.

As he raced towards the parish church, Darcy was surprised by the number of people milling around outside. Perhaps Bingley hasn't overestimated his intended's esteem. His friend's bride must be held in high regard to draw such a crowd of well-wishers. He directed his horse to the nearby stable, giving the stable-hand a generous number of coins to ensure the care of the beast.

As an afterthought, he dropped a few more coins in the man's hand. "When you've seen to my horse, send a man back along the road." He gestured in the direction from which he'd come. "A carriage was stranded and may need assistance."

"Aye, sir." The man took the horses reins and led it away.

Darcy pulled the watch from his pocket. The fob had belonged to his father, and was one of the few items Darcy kept with him always. A reminder that time was not to be taken for granted. His father held great plans for the future of Pemberley, but it was a future for their family's vast estate he'd not lived to see.

Darcy vowed not to make the same mistakes. He had already implemented many of his father's plans for their estate, working tirelessly over the years since the man's death. The effort he'd placed into securing their future made his sister's intrusion on his plans to spend time with Bingley at his new leasehold even more frustrating.

Damn Georgiana and her childish tantrums! Could she not see that all he did was to ensure her own future would be secure?

Of course, Darcy placed no blame on the girl for the precarious situation in which she was found. He could understand the sweet girl he had raised being taken in by the false platitudes of the steward's unscrupulous son, who had likely preyed on her good nature and memories of their shared childhood.

Indeed, Darcy understood it was his own ineptitude, his personal failure in adequately assessing the woman in whose care he'd left his sister, that had led to his dear sister's reputation being placed in peril.

He shoved the watch back into his pocket and strode towards the church doors. The giggles from local children playing took his mind from the frustrations of a teenage Georgiana to fonder memories of his sister; back to when being her guardian despite being a young, single man had seemed a manageable task.

While he shared the responsibilities of her guardianship with their cousin, Col. Fitzwilliam had spent many of those years abroad with his military obligations. Darcy couldn't place blame for Georgiana's situation on his cousin's shoulders either.

What his sister needed was female guidance. That she still held so vehemently to her delusions of love, despite having Wickham's true nature exposed, spoke to the necessity of mature feminine influence.

Spending time with Aunt Catherine and their cousin, Anne, at Rosings was but a temporary solution. At first Darcy had taken her there for her own safety while he dealt with the threat of Wickham. Georgiana argued the placement, as he'd expected. She disliked Aunt Catherine as much as he did, but fortunately she'd been able to see past that dislike and accept the company of cousin Anne, of whom they were both quite fond.

Georgiana found comfort in the gentle manners of their cousin; a point that served to reinforce Darcy's need to find a suitable wife. Someone who could introduce her to society appropriately and, in the future, to potential husbands. Far, far into the future.

As much as they enjoyed their cousin, even Darcy could acknowledge that a prolonged visit with their aunt was a punishment far worse than the crime of being fooled by a skilled rogue the likes of Wickham. No, he wouldn't keep Georgiana at Rosing much longer. Finding a suitable wife was now a priority on his schedule.

Darcy shook his head as visions of the dark-haired woman by the side of the road filled his mind. She was the epitome of all that would be wrong for his sister. A young woman standing idly out in the road rather than remaining in the safety of the carriage showed a severe lack of both decorum and intelligence. If it weren't for Darcy's skilled riding, he was sure he would have struck her.

No, that woman would be entirely inappropriate. So why was he having such trouble removing the memory of her features from his mind?

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 **Author note:** Hmmm why indeed, Mr Darcy?  
On a personal note, tomorrow my kids go back to school after their summer holidays. I'm very much looking forward to getting back into a regular writing routine. Fingers crossed that the creative side of my brain gets on board with that idea too!


	4. 4

**Author Note:** Firstly, thank you so much to those leaving comments on my scenes. I really do appreciate the time taken to share your thoughts. We hear a little more from Mr Darcy in this next scene. Likely this will be joined with the previous scene to form a full chapter when I get to the editing round, but for now I'm posting scene by scene, as that is how I work my way through the first draft.  
Enjoy!

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Forcing himself back to the task at hand, Darcy barely broke his stride as he passed through the vestibule and into the church. From the chatter he could hear from those congregated inside, he remained hopeful he had arrived in time to perform his duties as groomsman.

As his sight acclimated to the light inside the building, Darcy saw he had indeed arrived in time, though it was apparent the bride had not. He passed his gaze over the small congregation before drawing the attention of his friend.

"Darcy!" Bingley stood by the altar with his sisters and his brother-in-law, Mr Hurst if Darcy recalled correctly.

At the call of his name, those in the congregation fell silent and turned to inspect him. Darcy made his way to his friend, doing his best to avoid eye contact with those who watched him. From his brief purview he'd noted a number of women in the group, young women at that, and he'd learned long ago that women, particularly the mothers of young women, were wont to attribute any manner of meaning to the simplest of gestures.

It seemed a universal truth that mothers of young women maintained a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Darcy stumbled over the realisation that he was indeed now in want of a wife.

"Oh, Mr Darcy." Bingley's sister gestured him to join them. "Come, there is little time to spare. You simply must help us convince our brother of the mistake he is making."

With thoughts of finding a wife on his mind, Darcy took a moment to assess Miss Bingley as she reached out to touch his arm. Though Bingley himself had never made comment, Miss Bingley had made no secret of her interest in becoming Mrs Darcy.

While Darcy had never encouraged her attentions, nor had he given thought enough to discourage them. He took a moment now to consider the notion. Miss Bingley was not a handsome woman, though nor could she be called plain. Rather, Darcy found her features sharp, her nose somewhat resembling a bird beak.

He tried to envision her as his wife, as Mistress of Pemberley, as the mother of his children, but found himself unable to cast her in any such role. Again, unbidden thoughts of the dark-haired woman by the roadside entered his mind.

"Yes, Darcy, come. Explain to me in ways my sisters are unable why it would be so foolish of me to marry the most handsome, kind-natured gentlewoman I have ever had the good fortune to know."

Darcy's response was interrupted by raucous laughter followed by an extremely unladylike snort. His attention was drawn to three young ladies sitting in the front pew. The eldest appeared to be studying the bible held tightly in her hands. The other two were no more than girls, barely older than Georgiana. They were entirely unaware of those around them as they giggled to each other.

Miss Bingley gestured to the girls. "There. Can you believe, Mr Darcy, that Charles would have us accept such ill-mannered girls as our sisters?"

"Well, Caroline, you are most welcome to return to London with our sister and Mr Hurst, where there would be no need to concern yourself with familial ties to the Bennet sisters."

"Oh if only we could be in London, Charles. You should be marrying a woman of standing. A noblewoman, perhaps. And we should be at St George's church, as befitting a member of the ton, with all our friends in attendance. Not here." She gestured to their surroundings. "This town holds so little significance, I should not be surprised if the papers refused to run the announcement!"

"Caroline!"

Darcy could only recall hearing such a severe tone from his friend on one previous occasion. He was surprised to hear Bingley direct such harshness towards his sister.

Miss Bingley stepped back slightly, before straightening her back and raising her chin. Interceding before words could be said in anger, Darcy guided Miss Bingley back to her seat and waited as her sister and Mr Hurst joined her.

"Please, Mr Darcy, if there's anyone whose opinion Charles will regard, it is yours. If it were a true love match I would never interfere…"

"What makes you believe it is not a love match? From your brother's letters, he believes himself very much in love with Miss Bennet."

"Of course Charles believes himself to be in love. Charles is always falling in and out of love." Caroline looked again to the ill-mannered girls who were to soon be associated with her family. "I fear my brother is behaving in a rash and foolhardy manner. He has failed to take into consideration the consequence his marriage to a simple country girl will have on our family's tentative position in the ton."

Darcy said nothing as he returned to his friend's side. Bingley watched the entry as he fussed with the cuffs of his jacket.

"Control yourself, man. You appear as skittish as a newborn foal. Surely, if the notion of marriage affects your nerves so greatly, it should be cause to re-examine the offer?"

Bingley dropped his hands by his side, but did not pull his gaze from the entry. "I fear something has happened to Miss Bennet and her family. Mrs Bennet insisted they arrive by carriage, though it is but a mile from Longbourn. Had there been issue with the carriage, they still should have had time to arrive on foot."

"Perhaps you are the victim of a jilt. It has only been a matter of weeks that you have known Miss Bennet. How can you be so sure—"

"When you meet Jane—Miss Bennet—you will understand how I can be so sure, Darcy."

Darcy opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by the distressed complaints of an older woman entering the church. He spent little time examining the woman who could only be the mother of his friend's bride, as his attention was caught by the woman who entered next.

It was the very woman whose features had been haunting his thoughts since the moment he saw her by the side of her carriage. He watched as she approached, her expression filled with nothing but joy as she looked to Bingley.

Darcy swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. Was this the Miss Bennet who had so thoroughly captured his friend's heart? She did not appear as classically handsome as Bingley had led him to believe, but there was a liveliness to her demeanor that Darcy found himself drawn to.

She approached Bingley and curtsied before turning to face Darcy. Her eyes widened in recognition. She again curtsied but as she looked up her expression had changed. No longer did her eyes hold the joy they'd shown when she addressed Bingley. Now they were filled with fire.

The woman moved to the side. As she did, Darcy noticed her gown. While an attempt had been made to clean it, he could clearly see mud spatters across the skirt. Heat filled his cheeks as he realised the reason for her ire.

She glared at him a moment longer before diverting her gaze to the entry. As she, Bingley, and he presumed all others in the church watched Bingley's bride approach, Darcy's attention was held solely by the dark-haired woman.

He studied her features. She confused him. She certainly would not be considered a classically handsome woman in the eyes of the ton, and yet Darcy could not tear his gaze from her. He willed her to turn to him again with those fiery eyes, relishing in the thought that he had roused such strong opinion.

* * *

 **Author note:** Good luck, Mr Darcy. I think you're going to need it!


	5. 5

**Author Note:** Once again, thank you so much for all the feedback you're offering. I have a page of notes from comments that were left ready for when I do my next round of editing. I appreciate both praise and critique, as while the praise does wonders for my motivation, critiques do wonders for strengthening my story before I publish (which I do intend to do).

I do want to reiterate, this is a very rough, first draft. At this stage, I am not even thinking in terms of whole chapters. Instead, I am posting literally scene by scene, as they're written. This means some postings will be shorter than others. I hope that doesn't make reading along too frustrating, but if it does, perhaps just wait until there's been a few updates :)

* * *

Lizzie could scarcely believe what she saw or, more to the point, _who_ she saw as she made her way into the church. She curled her fingers into her hands to keep from rubbing her eyes.

Having assisted Jane to fix her dress and hair following the extended carriage ride, Lizzie had honoured her father's request to give him time alone with Jane. She gave her sister a final supportive hug and stepped back, acknowledging both Jane's nervous excitement and Papa's obvious pride in his eldest daughter. Jane had secured a very fine match in Mr Bingley and Lizzie held every confidence they would live their lives very happily together—so long as the carriage mishap and their mother's hysterics did not ruin the ceremony.

She'd hurried to follow Mrs Bennet into the church, praying the woman would get control of her nerves before she made it through the vestibule. Once inside, and confident Mama was settled with her sisters, Lizzie's attention was drawn to the man her sister would soon call husband.

Mr Bingley had handsome features, with his fair-coloured curls and clear blue eyes. To Lizzie, he was almost a little too pretty. But, he was very much the embodiment of all Jane had described when, as girls, they had talked late at night of their dreams for the future.

Yes, indeed. Lizzie could see clearly the love Mr Bingley held for her sister shining from those blue eyes of his. Jane would be a very happy wife indeed, with a husband who plainly adored her. She smiled and curtsied before her soon-to-be brother then turned to the gentleman by his side.

The joy Lizzie felt when she thought of her sister's future was swiftly forgotten. She had expected to face the portly and dismissive Mr Hurst, but instead faced someone much worse. Of all the fine men Mr Bingley could choose to have stand with him at his wedding, what could possibly possess him to choose this particular man.

This man was everything Mr Bingley was not. Dark, unruly hair that framed even darker eyes. He held his head high, displaying his strong jaw and stern features. There was little joy at all to be found in this man's expression.

Lizzie's fingers curled even tighter into her hands and she fought to maintain composed features. She swiftly curtsied to the stranger who had left her standing muddied beside a broken down carriage, then moved aside and turned to await Jane and Papa.

The wait is not long, and very quickly the ire Lizzie felt for the insolent stranger transformed into happiness as her father and beautiful sister approached.

Mr Bennet addressed the pastor and Mr Bingley. "I do beg your pardon for the delay."

Mr Bingley's gaze strayed to his bride. "It matters only that you are here now, and that your daughter is still willing to become my wife." He smiled as though he had not a care in the world, but Lizzie heard the subtle waver of his voice.

"Well, my dear?" Mr Bennet prompted his daughter.

Jane's voice was soft, yet clear. "Yes. Very willing, sir."

Bingley's smile grew to an almost impossible size, and Jane responded by lowering her gaze in a demure fashion. The moment was broken only by a deep throat clearing by the stranger.

"Oh, do forgive my manners. Mr Bennet, I would introduce you to my dear friend, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire. Darcy, this is Mr Bennet of Longbourn." He gestured to Mrs Bennet who had left her position with her daughters to join the party at the altar. "And the delightful Mrs Bennet. Mrs Bennet, may I introduce to you my good friend, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy." The men each gave a slight incline of their head in acknowledgement of the other.

Mrs Bennet curtsied. "Mr Darcy, my daughters Miss Bennet, soon to be Mrs Bingley, and Miss Elizabeth." Both girls curtsied and Darcy nodded his acknowledgement. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to my younger daughters so that the ceremony might begin." She looked pointedly towards the pastor before curtsying once more and returning to the pew with her daughters.

Fortunately, the pastor took Mrs Bennet's cue and began proceedings, ending the awkward introductions. Unfortunately, Lizzie found herself the subject of Mr Darcy's unnerving attention throughout the ceremony.

As Jane and Mr Bingley recited their vows, as they exchanged rings, as the pastor blessed their union, every time Lizzie glanced across to Mr Darcy, his gaze was on her. Even as the happy couple sealed their vows with a kiss, still he watched her.

Lizzie scowled. How was she to relish in the delight of her favourite sister being wed to her beloved when she was being studied so scrupulously. She noted the slight rise of the corner of Mr Darcy's mouth and deepened her scowl. Was he enjoying her discomfort?

She returned her attentions to the happy couple and to the pastor who advised the wedding party would adjourn to the vestry to enter the marriage lines in the register. Lizzie refused to look, but she was entirely aware of Mr Darcy's presence by her side as they made their way to the room.

"I trust the man I sent was able to assist with your carriage repairs?"

Lizzie turned to Darcy as she considered his words. He cheeks heated, and she was certain they had filled with colour. "Sir, I must apologise. I have been remiss in not thanking you sooner for your thoughtful deed. Yes, the man you sent was of great assistance. A skilled rider on a swift horse to return the short distance to Longbourn and retrieve the part necessary for the repair was most helpful, indeed." She curtsied and began to turn to congratulate her sister.

"Good. I would have stopped to offer assistance myself had I realised it was Bingley's bride who was waylaid."

Lizzie said nothing.

"You see, I travelled a great distance this morning to stand by Bingley's side. I feared I had misjudged the time necessary to make the journey."

"Well you were certainly travelling at great speed." Try as she might, the look on Mr Darcy's face told Lizzie she'd failed to keep the bitter note from her voice. She took a breath and forced a smile before continuing. "It matters not, Mr Darcy. You made it to the church, and in sending a man to offer assistance, my sister was spared the shame of arriving to her wedding on foot."

This time Lizzie did turn away. After signing the register as witness, she stood aside to allow Mr Darcy access to do the same. Jane motioned her further away from the men.

"Oh Lizzie, was that not the most wonderful service?"

Lizzie took hold of her sister's hands. "I could not imagine a single way in which it could be improved, Mrs Bingley."

Jane smiled, then looked over Lizzie's shoulder. "And what do you think of my husband's friend, Mr Darcy?"

Lizzie laughed. "Married not yet one hour and already you are trying to find me a suitable husband, Mrs Bingley? Mama would be proud."

Colour drained from Jane's cheeks and Lizzie immediately recognised her error. "Oh sweet, benevolent sister of mine, surely by now you realise I only tease you. Why, there is not a single comparable trait between you and our dear mother."

"Elizabeth, for shame, you mustn't speak of Mama in such a manner." The words were said in censure, but a tinge of colour returned to Jane's complexion.

Lizzie wrapped her arms around her sister and held her tight. "Oh Jane, I am going to miss you so very much. I suspect, if there is to be any peace in the house, I will need to render myself mute around Mama in your absence."

Jane laughed, the sound delicate and reserved. Not for the first time, Lizzie envied her sister the ability to control her emotion.

As they stepped out of the embrace, Jane grabbed hold of Lizzie's hands. "Promise me, Lizzie, if Mama becomes too unbearable, you'll let me know. You will always be welcome to stay with us." She again looked over Lizzie's shoulder. "Though, perhaps you will find a husband of your own sooner than you expect."

"If you refer to Mr Darcy, I can assure you there is little chance he would make an offer, and less chance still it would be accepted."

"Oh Lizzie, Charles has spoken so highly of Mr Darcy. He was to arrive at Netherfield with the Bingleys but instead chose to attend to his sister who suffered some ordeal. Charles did not offer me detail, but I gather Miss Darcy was quite distressed. As her guardian, Mr Darcy, who spends much of his time managing his family's vast estate, chose to forgo his visit to Netherfield to instead offer comfort to his sister. From what Charles has described, I believe Mr Darcy to be a most noble gentleman indeed."

Lizzie looked from her sister, down to her muddied gown, and then back to her sister. She furrowed her brows and opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again. No good would come from speaking ill of Mr Darcy to Jane, for Jane could see goodness is everyone. "Come along. Mama's nerves will not take it if we don't return soon."

* * *

 **Author note** : Eek! The first conversation with Lizzie and Darcy. I foresee a great deal of editing happening with this scene. I'm not entirely happy with it, but I am posting now so that I can keep moving forward with the first draft. Apologies for typos!


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